


Constellations

by ungoodpirate



Series: Belated Pynch Week 2017 [5]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Constellations, Day 5, M/M, Pynch Week, Pynch Week 2017, Ronan typical language, Star Gazing, Stars, The Barns, pynch - Freeform, some healthy communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 01:15:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11863593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungoodpirate/pseuds/ungoodpirate
Summary: The stars above shone out brighter than in anywhere else in Henrietta. Maybe it was because they were farther out from civilization, or maybe it was because of that special magic that infected the Barns.---AKA, Ronan and Adam stargaze from the roof of the Barns and discuss constellations, fathers, and promises they intend to keep.





	Constellations

Lain out on the shingled roof just outside Ronan’s bedroom window at the Barnes, Ronan raised his arm fully extended and drew a W-shape in the night sky. 

“That’s Cassiopeia,” he said. “Named after some queen who pissed off Poseidon, so he fucking chained her up in a throne in the sky forever.”

Adam huffed beside him in a small, reactionary laugh. He had once compared Ronan’s swearing to poetry, but it also gave him a creative way of storytelling. 

Above them was a clearing amongst the filled out branches of the trees where the stars above shone out brighter than in anywhere else in Henrietta. Maybe it was because they were farther out from civilization, or maybe it was because of that special magic that infected the Barns. 

It was late summer. Everyone always talked about the smell of spring, with it’s perfumed, dawning flowers, or maybe the beginning of June with its honeysuckle, but they never talked about depths of summer. Summer after the buds and the blooming, when the trees were full of foliage and everything was at the height of living. It smelled green and earthy and alive. 

“And if you follow the point of Cassiopeia straight on over,” Ronan said, “There’s the fucking North Star.”

Adam shifted his head on the shingles, turning his gaze from the stars above to Ronan’s profile. 

“Where did you learn all this?” he asked. 

He watched Ronan blink, a slow shut of dark-lashed eyes and a reopening, a masking and unmasking. 

“Dad,” Ronan answered. 

Adam held his breath, like he was holding still in front of a spooked animal. This was a dangerous territory, one that Adam wasn’t often invited into. 

“He…” Ronan said. “He was away a lot for all that BS he turned out to be doing. But when he was here, he made it count. He taught us boxing and music and how to take care of the animals and…”

“Constellations?” 

“Yeah.”

Adam watched a tiny flex in Ronan’s jaw, only notable from a tiny, shifting indent of the skin. Over the last year Ronan had learned a lot of new truths about his father in ways that complicated his memory. 

“Did your father ever teach you anything, Parrish?” Ronan said, completely even-toned in a way he was never even-toned mentioning Adam’s father. Ronan hated every inch of Robert Parrish. 

“Cars,” Adam said, because it was an easy answer to a not-easy question. “Everything about how they work, how the fix them, until I got better than him.”

He rolled his head so his eyes again were to the sky. Not black, but spiraling with twinkle lights, a million worlds with a million possibilities. 

“And how to ride a bike,” he added, hating how his voice betrayed him with a little break. He cleared his throat. “He was always angry, but when I was real little, he wasn’t as angry.” 

A wind waved over them, and when there were this many trees around, the wind through the leaves was like a whole orchestra of maracas. 

“Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” Ronan said. 

When Adam turned again to look at him, Ronan was already looking at him first. This conversation they had been avoiding all day, even to the point where they talked about their fathers instead. 

“I’ll come back,” Adam said. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Adam laid his hand on the side of Ronan’s face, running his thumb across the curve of his cheekbone. “Ronan,” he said. “I’ll come back for you.” 

He never thought he’d have anything to come back to Henrietta for. He never thought he’d have anything he’d regret leaving behind. 

Ronan took Adam’s hand in his own and brought it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. 

“Will I see the same constellations in New Haven?” Adam asked. 

“We’re in the same hemisphere, so yeah,” Ronan said. “Figuring you can see the stars at all with all the fucking ambient light.” 

Adam huffed again, another laugh. “I get it. You hate cities. You hate people. You hate interacting with people.” 

“I don’t hate you,” Ronan said. 

“Ronan,” Adam said, as soft as the wind, but painful. There was something else being avoided today, for days, for weeks, fearing it was too soon or too strong. Something clogged up in his chest and ready to burst out.

Ronan got their first: “I love you.”

And it wasn’t painful at all, even if tomorrow Adam was going away to college and wouldn’t be back for months, even though the life they had all crushed together in magic and mystery had already started to delude when Gansey, Blue, and Henry had left on their road trip a month ago. This was a new connection.

The corner of Adam’s mouth twitched up. “I was going to say the same thing.” 

“Then say it, Parrish,” Ronan said. His eyes were shining and filled with lightyears. 

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ronan had just warned minutes ago. This was the biggest promise of all. 

“I love you,” Adam said to the witness of the stars. 

“I hear New Haven’s on the water,” Ronan said, and Adam could hear the mischief, barely disguised, in his tone. 

“It is.”

“Don’t go pissing off Poseidon, okay?” 

Adam elbowed him, and Ronan retaliated in the quick move of rolling on top of him and pressing on his mouth a hungry kiss.


End file.
